A barely-a-person morning

(Image source)

On Monday, I spent the morning in bed. I wasn't tired, and I wasn't ill. (At least not physically, but I'll get to that.)

And I wasn't just being lazy.

It started at 4 am when I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Then it continued a little later after I'd navigated the necessity of a boiler service visit. 

I lay on the bed because I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do.

It wasn't a thought solely about that moment either: 

• I thought about my career - I'm 41 and still don't know what I want to do.
• I thought about my hobbies and how I'm not very good at any of the ones I try, and they don't often interest me enough to be worth setting myself up to do them.
• And, yes, I didn't know what I wanted to do right then either: anything I thought of doing that day was either too expensive, too far away, or too much effort.

Time ticked by. An hour. Two hours. My mind looping around the same tired thoughts and counter-arguments, the walls of my 'box' (as I refer to my depression) closing in.

I started wondering if all I really wanted was to be dead so I didn't have to think about what to do ever again. Or, less severe, if I should just remain in bed till the next day. 

But then I remembered the next day was a work day, and that made me feel like I should 'make the most' of the day off, which made me think more about how there was nothing I wanted to do...

So, I felt lazy. And therefore guilty.

On top of that, it was J's last day of holiday. Great: I was ruining that too.

I thought of the things I had planned later in the week, and whether I could still afford to do them. Or if I could manage to fake 'okay-ness' enough again to get through them. 

I worried about choosing not to do them, and how that might look to the people I'm doing them with. I wondered if I'd ever hear from them again if I bailed. 

Another hour passed and still I stayed in bed, thinking and wondering, my mood getting lower and lower...

The ending came eventually and I don't have much that is positive to say about that time. Although, at least I was thinking about these things. So, on some level, I wanted to find out what I wanted/want to do. I want to get better; I want to improve.

I suppose that's a good thing. Even if my lack of answers leads me to stay in bed...

It's not just the American Police that needs to change...

When I was at school, I was often bullied and picked on. Usually, it was because I was too skinny; too 'goofy' (tooth-wise); or didn't have the 'right' clothes, shoes, or haircut. I remember it vividly and the mental-scars remain to this day.

I'm fortunate, though: it was never because of my skin colour, so I don't know what that feels like.

My Upper School was quite segregated, with social groups formed largely around skin colour. I remember the 6th Form Common Room had an archway in the middle, splitting it in two. One side, quite organically, became the 'white' side, and the other was the 'black' or 'Asian' side. Looking back, it was a pretty horrible thing to happen.

As I progressed at that school, my friendship group changed. I became friends with the so-called 'Asians'. (The fact that most of them were probably born in England was lost on us back then.) I think fondly of the times spent with them over the years that followed: five-a-side football and table tennis in the sports centre; doing crossword puzzles or playing chess in the library; drinking coffee in the canteen while discussing video games. Normal things, really.

This group of friends was nicer to me than any group had been previously. I didn't share their skin colour/faith/cultural-heritage, but it didn't matter.

I remember clearly a conversation I had with one of my former white-'friends' (who had also been one of those who picked on me often). He approached me one break-time as I went to the vending machine.

'Why are you hanging out with the Asians?' he said.

I looked at him, slightly puzzled. It seemed obvious to me.

'Because they're my friends!' I said. (I'm proud of my younger-self for that response!)

It saddens me that we live in a world where racist ideas and thoughts are still so pervasive. Almost an entire year group of white people seemed to be growing up with the opinion that race made a difference to someone's value as a person. I don't know where most of them are now, or what their thoughts are. I can only hope they have matured into kinder people, but it's not hard for me to believe that any 'white' population might, largely, have racist beliefs underneath.

Racism is everywhere. It's constant in the unconscious (or not-so-unconscious in many cases) bias that all of us (including me) carry as a result of our culture and upbringing. There's no point denying it: it's there. But, if we recognise it in ourselves, we can challenge it, choose to act or think a different way, and change those biases for good.

We don't live in anything like a fair world: I can walk around with my white wife, without even having to think about what people might think of two people of our 'race' being together. A black or 'Asian' man with a white partner probably wouldn't have that privilege. And that's just one example straight off the top of my head.

The other day, I described the police as people who are supposed to be our 'protectors'. I'm not sure that would be the first word that came to mind for many black people, even before George Floyd's murder.

Yet, it's not just the American Police that needs to change. We all do. Let's start now.

#BlackLivesMatter

You or I can't change the world (but maybe WE can...)

If everyone looks after the corner of the
world they're in...

Most of my views on things boil down to one thing: ‘it’s nicer’. I look at the world and wonder when (and why) people started thinking it was better to build walls, create borders, and become so protectionist.

Personally, I think it’s always nicer to help people (refugees or immigrants, for example, or the sick, elderly, or lonely.)

I cycle to work these days and see a lot of what I will call 'bad character'. It seems people show their worst side when they’re at the wheel of a car: selfish, me-first attitudes. ‘You’re in my way,’ or, ‘My journey is more important than yours.’ (I’m not blameless myself, of course, and I absolutely love cruising back past the particularly impatient drivers when they’re later stuck in traffic!)

It makes me sad to see how many people seem to care so little about other people.

On those cycle journeys, when I start to feel particularly down about it, I try and remember it’s not my job, nor would it be possible if it were, for me, or any other person on their own, to fix the whole world. It’s too great a task and too many people aren’t interested.

All we can do is look after the little corner we’re in to the best of our ability. 

Frank Turner released a new album recently: Be More Kind. Ignoring the grammatical problems with the title (‘Be Kinder’ wouldn’t have been a good rhyme, after all), I think the sentiment sums it up perfectly. No matter how kind we already are – a little or a lot – we can still be more kind.

Be more kind, my friends...

The more people who do that, through small deeds, positive words, or little changes, the more the world might just shift as a whole.

Friends...

It's not like a popular 90s' sitcom...

Friends. They’re hard to come by. And, as we get older, it becomes even harder to find, and keep, them.

When we do find them, all too often we let them go. A band I used to listen to a lot said: ‘I lost all my friends to a lack of commitment’ (Ballboy, I gave up my eyes to a man who was blind, 2003).

I’ve been thinking about my friends – those I’ve known for  years, and those I’ve met more recently – and trying to figure out how to make sure I don’t lose them. I think everyone struggles with the same doubts: they’re probably too busy to talk; I’ll just be annoying them if I message; if they wanted to speak to me, they’d have messaged me.

The latter, of course, is a self-fulfilling prophecy. We could all end up sitting around thinking the same thing, then no one would contact anyone and we’d all lose the friends we have.

I think we’re all too quick to assume we know what’s going on in someone’s life:

‘Oh, they’re married, they won’t want to come out.’

‘We’re different ages; we’re in different life-places.’

‘They have kids, they’ll be busy.’

‘They know loads of people, they won’t need me.’

Don’t assume anything; none of us are mind-readers. Don’t assume your friends don’t like you or want to hear from you. They probably do, otherwise they wouldn’t be friends.

The friends I’ve had throughout my life have always been very important to me. I totally accept I’m needier than most and, over the years, I’ve become more aware of the need to reign it in a bit. But it’s easy to go too far, I’ve found, and never contact people at all.

Since the majority of people who read this will be my friends, it felt like this was a good way of re-launching my blog (I’ve been wanting to for a while) and getting the message out there: you guys mean a lot to me.

I don’t think it’s said enough. Don’t assume people know it.

 Elbow - Dear Friends - 2011

Only Half Over...

We’re all only half over. Whether we’re young or old, just starting out, or already successful, none of us is finished. There’s more we can do, more we can be.

In life, it’s sometimes hard to see the good that could come. A day starts badly and it’s easy to give up on the rest of it: ‘It’s going to be one of those days.’

We might not be able to imagine that a humble beginning, the first words on a page, could ever take us anywhere spectacular but, you never know.

If success comes – we get the job, or our painting, novel, or album, hits the big time – it’s easy to stop there. We’ve made it. But, now what? Turn on the news: the world still needs us to be at the top of our game.

Or, we might look back on life and see a bright young future that never quite blossomed. Or maybe we’ve let someone down, or feel a failure in our own eyes. We might be at the edge of our world, ready to fall, the bridges on our way home seem burned. It’s not too late.

In the darkest times, when we’ve been left, lonely and without answers, living feels like a torment and time drags on: ‘When will it end?’ Keep breathing, even if it’s all you can do. It’s a start.

No matter what has gone before, the mistakes we’ve made, or the roads we’ve taken, there’s still time to change. We can change ourselves; we can change our reactions to the things we see. We can change our future.

Only Half Over is a new collection of songs that are best of my work so far. Some of the songs are old and updated as, over the years, I’ve realised they themselves were only half over. Yet, while this album is a ‘best of’, some of the songs are new: my ‘career’ is equally only half over – there’s more to come.

And maybe somewhere, either in the lines or between them, there’ll be something to help you get back out there. We could still win. It's only half over.

The new album - Only Half Over - by Martin Flett. Out 06/03/2016

A happy 2015?

When you think of happiness, what comes to mind? A holiday? A larger house? A better car?

I think we spend most of our time, energy and money, not on trying to be happy, but on trying to be comfortable. We save for a new PC, or a bigger TV; we want efficient heating, and a nice car to take us places, dry with the minimum effort.

In a new year, we tend to think of things we hope will make us happy in the coming months. The problem is many of the things we think of won’t necessarily make us happy, they’ll just make us more comfortable. And there will always be someone more comfortable than us, no matter how big our TV is, so we’ll keep on chasing ‘happiness’, never quite reaching it.

Instead, we should probably spend more time making memories, building friendships, and enjoying experiences. Those are the things that make me happy, for sure. Just today I was reminiscing about the times I had in a previous existence (at least that’s how it feels), when I had friends and experiences that will stay with me forever. I miss them, and know that, when I reach old age, I will look back and be glad I had them.

Lying on my death bed, I doubt I’ll be wishing I’d had a better sofa. But I’m sure I’ll wish I had more time with those I love, and lived more stories with them.

My advice at the start of 2015 is to stop seeking comfort and go after real happiness instead. Do things that will last, make memories, write stories in time, with every day a new chapter.

This time next year, it will be far better to look back on than any Blu-ray movie.

Being crazy.

‘I always thought a man should have a dream, to dig himself out when he hit the floor.’ 

– Martyn Joseph, 'People Crazy As Me'.

People Crazy As Me - Martyn Joseph

In my darkest times, one thing has helped me to pull myself up again: my dreams. There are a few things I want to do before I die and, if I give in, cash in my chips, call it a day, those dreams will never get done.

But what happens if you try to achieve your dream, and fail? Or, what if you achieve it and it’s not enough?

I wanted to write a novel. It was my big ‘goal’ and I’ve done it. But I guess I was kidding myself: it turns out my real goal was to be a paid writer and, in that, I’ve failed. My novel has been rejected by pretty much every agent I could find to send it to over the course of the last eight months. I’ve received praise from colleagues for my work but there’s no hope, really, that it will ever find its way to the printing press.

It’s a bigger disappointment than I thought it would be and, coupled with the disappointment of still not being able to move back to my 'home', it's tough to take.

Martyn Joseph sings a song I’ve turned to in the past: ‘People Crazy As Me.’ Its opening line is what I felt in those dark times. As I listen to the song again now, I hear a message of a better way to live, a way to make this world better, and it’s not rocket science; it’s a simple message anyone can live.

I need to adjust my goals, again, and there’s a danger I’ll have to reduce them, to minimize them until they’re no longer recognisable as my dreams anymore, just to make them achievable.

But Mr Joseph never says the dream has to be attainable. (In any case, I’m still breathing; the dream isn’t unattainable yet.) I think of another song: ‘Dignity’ by Deacon Blue (I'll warn you now, it's quite '80s!) or, indeed, one I wrote myself: ‘I Want To Be An Astronaut’.

In recent years, I’ve often said I want to make this world a better place, to improve each moment, even if it’s only in some small way. I think I need to get back to that somehow: to write stories just because someone, somewhere, might enjoy it; to sing songs and record albums just because one person might find some hope or entertainment in the lyrics. To live each moment to the best of my ability so others might benefit from my talents, whether in writing, administration, or just through a listening ear.

And, sometimes, I see people as crazy as me.

I wonder if you’re one of them…?

The unimportance of liking oranges (or not).

Today, I read this article in the Independent about Vicky Beeching, a prominent Christian singer/songwriter for churches.

Firstly, this isn’t a post about religion. This is a post about how we live and how we act towards others. (Some might say that’s what religion is supposed to be about…)

I can’t understand how people claiming to be ‘Christians’ can treat a person, such as Vicky Beeching, in this manner. To claim someone is ill, or possessed, just because they are gay is like persecuting someone for liking oranges. It’s nonsense.

Everyone is different. We all have different talents, likes and dislikes, and we all have different struggles to face in life. Some have health issues, others abusive parents, or financial difficulties; life is hard enough. Why make it more difficult for anyone? *

Instead, let’s focus on and celebrate the things we can do to improve the world: creating, caring, encouraging, looking after the environment, to list only a few, all hopefully with some good fun and humour along the way. 

Do your best, live well, and help (or at least let!) those around you do the same. I think the world would be a better place if we lived like this.

(And I think Jesus would agree.)

*Just to clarify: I’m not saying that being gay is a difficulty in life to be overcome like those listed (although, sadly, it seems it is such a difficulty in some circles). I’m saying that, regardless of anyone’s likes, dislikes, talents, beliefs – or indeed sexuality – there are enough problems to deal with in life without making things harder.

What if...?

One of the key questions an author asks when writing a story is: ‘What if…?’ What if our hero met someone in a bar? What if they got lost on the way home? What if they found a treasure? Or, if we’re particularly short of ideas, what if ninjas burst through the wall?

In life, I ask the same question and, having finished my novel, I’ve been considering it from both sides: what if I am successful in my quest to find an agent/publisher? And, what if I’m not?

One time, I wrote a song, just after I’d finished recording an album:

Welcome by Martin Flett

Basically, I was tired, and on the way down from the completing-a-project buzz. I had no new material left and the last thing I wanted to do was to face writing a whole new album, to start from scratch, when I hadn’t been that successful with my previous effort.

But, I wrote the song, and my next album, Becoming Human, was born which, incidentally, remains my best musical work so far.

It is difficult facing the ‘what if not…’ question: the answer can seem to be that we’d have to give up on whatever ultimate ambition we have. For me, it might mean I can never earn my living as an author and will have to settle for writing for fun, alongside whatever average admin job I can find.

But, if we pick up the tools again and make the first step towards our next project, then the dream isn’t lost. It may merely be over the next mountain. If your dream is really worth it, then you’ll make that climb.

And, you never know: what if the second one is the best…?

Achieving life's goals.

Two years ago, I wrote this about some of the things I wanted to do in my life.

Re-reading it now, I’m pleased to see I’ve succeeded in a couple: I visited Findochty, and I’ve finished my first novel. Unfortunately I haven’t yet learned to play Johnny B. Goode Marty McFly style and I may have to accept I will never achieve this one.

Finishing my novel gave me a weird feeling: I’ve done something I’ve wanted to do for years. Now, it’s complete, on the page, out of my head and in the world. It’s finished. It feels good. 

But it brought to mind a question: what do you do when you’ve achieved your life’s ambition?

The answer is, of course, make a new one. Find something else to work towards. For example, I'm glad, even two years ago, I included ‘write another novel’ on my list of things to do. The best ambitions don’t end, they grow.

I’m proud of finishing my novel; I’ll be even more proud if I get it published. And prouder still if I end up with a whole shelf of my own in the local Waterstones.

Whatever you’re working on, keep at it. Achieving a goal is worth the time and hard work it takes. And, when you’ve done it, you’ll find a whole kaleidoscope of new ambitions and opportunities appear over the horizon.

Bring it on.

When 'thank you' seem to be the hardest words...

I once read that ‘thank you’ is a perfectly acceptable response to most compliments.  I try to follow the rule myself, though it’s hard as someone who is naturally inclined towards self-deprecation.

We all know how irritating it can be when someone constantly refuses to accept our compliments: the girl who won’t accept someone thinks she’s beautiful; the guy who refuses to let us congratulate him on playing guitar well.  Yet, I’ve never really thought about why it’s irritating, until now…

People sometimes compliment my writing, and it always surprises me.  It’s not that I don’t believe I’m any good, it’s more that I don’t expect other people to agree with me (or to even read my stuff!)  When someone tells me I write well, I’m therefore tempted to tell them I’m not really that good.

But that’s quite disrespectful to the other person.  I’d basically be saying I know better than them, which is odd, given my self-deprecating leanings.  Or I’d be calling them a liar, or a sycophant, believing they’re telling me what I want to hear, not what they really think. (Though I would probably dress it up in my mind as ‘they’re just being polite.’)

 So, instead, I pause for a second, allowing my brain to process the fact this person may actually like what I write, and then I thank them. 

Even if they’re wrong, and my writing is terrible, they are still entitled to their opinion and I am grateful it’s a positive one.

Next time someone pays you a compliment, accept it graciously.  They might just be telling the truth.

(Liz Mosley, if you’re reading this, thank you!  Your compliment last weekend inspired this post.)

What it really means to 'do your best'.

100% can be a fluid concept.

‘Do your best’ is a common piece of encouragement, and it’s a good one: no-one can ask any more of you than your ‘best’.

But sometimes we think we could’ve done better.  Maybe an article we’ve written isn’t as good as a previous one, or we don’t perform as well as we’d hoped in an interview, or perhaps we don’t achieve the grade we wanted in an exam.

We believe we haven’t done our best.

But I don’t think that’s necessarily the case.  There are so many factors influencing our performance: we could be ill at the time (mentally or physically), or we could have other demands on our time.  Perhaps the cellar flooded or the car broke down, and we lost time sorting it out, or were flustered when we got to the venue.  It doesn’t even have to be something so dramatic: we could’ve needed to get the house in order, or have been making an effort to keep friendships and relationships going.

I’d argue, unless we were sat around eating chips and playing on the Xbox for 3 weeks beforehand, we still did our ‘best’.  

Doing our best doesn’t necessarily mean achieving the maximum possible result we could under perfect circumstances.  Circumstances are rarely perfect, therefore the maximum possible result is rarely ‘perfection’. 

We only get one life, and only one opportunity to do any one thing.  The way things work out is the only way they could – ‘if onlys’ don’t exist.

So don’t give yourself a hard time if you don’t quite meet your own high standards every time you do something.  The chances are you have done your best with the circumstances or resources available to you.

There is always more going on than you could possibly imagine.

I read somewhere this week that electrons do not move in a regular orbit around a nucleus as I'd always thought. (Yet more proof that GCSE Physics is a complete waste of time.) Rather, they move from one place to another without actually travelling the distance in between.

That's right, they teleport. And we thought it wasn't possible.

It wasn't a science text book that told me this, so I can't vouch for its validity (I am now reading a book on quantum mechanics in an effort to fill in some of the gaps in my knowledge), but even so, it's an interesting thought.

I realise by beginning my post with this information, I've risked losing a number of readers who don't like science (or those who do, and therefore will scoff at my primitive understanding of quantum mechanics) but, it's important because it shows there is always more going on than we could possibly imagine.

I sat in a classical concert last week and considered the vibrations of the air, carrying the sound to my ears, keeping the exact pitch and rhythm the musicians intended. I felt a little dizzy, in fact, as I tried to decide whether air was a better conductor of sound than the strings themselves.

The music was glorious but, even then, there was still so much more going on.

Often we might feel despondent: working a mundane job, or checking sales figures that don't quite match what we'd hoped, or looking at a room full of people at a wedding and believing they're all happy and we're the only ones who aren't.

But, I guarantee, there is more going on than you think. Those people might be putting off going home to an abusive partner, or one of the sales we have made could have gone to a young man who may have committed suicide if it wasn't for your inspirational book. And that job could be providing you with just the experience you need for your perfect job in five years time.

And, even if none of that is true, there are billions of electrons in your body, jumping around, teleporting back and forth (depending on whether they're being observed, apparently), without which you could not 'be'.

So don't despair, you are a marvel. And you never know what might be going on behind the scenes.

Finding good role models: thoughts from a train following a best friend's wedding.

I had the privilege of witnessing one of my longest-serving, and best, friends get married yesterday. I sat in the reception and listened to various people comment on the excellent qualities of my friend, knowing that it was an accurate representation of this man I've known for my whole life.

As I sat there I couldn't help wondering what people might say about me should I get married again. And I felt a sense of shame: I doubt my references would be as glowing. At least, not if they were to be accurate.

'When I look at myself I don't see the man I wanted to be; somewhere down the line I slipped off track. One step up and two steps back.' - Bruce Springsteen, 'One Step Up'

But the man I saw yesterday, my friend, is still very much in my life, and we both expressed a strong desire to try and recapture some of the closeness that, as so often seems to happen as life goes on, has somehow been lost, just through the passage of time and that all-powerful force: 'stuff'.

In my friend I see a true 'man', and an excellent role model. Someone who I want to emulate, not necessarily in outward accomplishments or actions, but in strength of character, in loyalty of friendship, and in a personification of love. And I don't apologise for sounding overly sentimental.

Congratulations, mate. May your marriage be life-long and full of joy. I'm glad I have the opportunity to continue to be friends with, and learn from, you.

How do you have fun?

Life can sometimes be work, work, work.

Fun doesn’t seem to feature in my life much.  I don’t really have time/money.

And I’m not sure this is a good thing.

I think having fun is important, I just find it hard.  When I use time on something meaningless, such as Football Manager, I consider it time wasted and feel guilty: I should have been writing.

The truth is, I’ve never really known what I enjoy.  My mother used to ask me: ‘Is there anything you do like?!’ after I had declared I didn’t like yet another activity: playing football, swimming, and youth groups, to name but a few.

Of course, there are things I do in my spare time: reading, playing music, or watching films, for example.  But I question whether I actually ‘enjoy’ them: are they fun?  Or do I do them to pass the time while I’m on the tram, or eating, or too tired lazy to write?

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned what I want to do: writing.  And I’ve found I can write and perform songs as a side-line.  But I don’t do them for fun.  In fact, when I sit down to write, it feels like far harder work than the time I sit at my desk 9-5. 

And having sat at said desk all day/week, which is itself particularly unenjoyable, it’s then difficult to  do the hard writing, even though I ‘want’ to do it.

In fact, it leads to great frustration: knowing I could do my writing, if only I didn’t first have to tire myself out in a day job in order to pay the bills etc.

Apologies.  I don’t mean to whine.

I think we all need time for relaxation, and fun.   If you’re like me, I recommend trying to allow yourself to have fun from time to time.  And maybe I’ll make it a belated New Year’s Resolution.

I could even schedule it in, and then it might feel like a work activity...

Things I'm looking forward to - 2013

Making the most of the year to come.

‘A goal without a plan is just a wish.’
– Antoine de Saint-Exupery, French writer.

I love the start of a new year: it's a good chance to look back, take stock, and look to what we want the next 12 months to bring.  While I understand some people saying: ‘It’s just another day, you can make a fresh start anytime,’ I still think it’s a particularly easy time to do it.

For a few years I’ve promised I would finish my novel, yet still it goes on.

This year, I’m making plans: I’ve already written a workable schedule for my novel, and also for my non-fiction project.  And, I’m trimming out things I can live without, or distract me from my ambition.

I’ve spent much time in my life on things I’m not going to be proud of on my death-bed: Football Manager; late-morning lie-ins; re-watching movies I’ve seen time and again.  I’m not saying I will cut these out entirely, but they need to be in their place, not in place of my life’s goals.

Don Miller wrote recently about why New Year’s Resolutions often end in disappointment, and how to make ones that will stick.  You can read his blog-post here.  Basically, it’s about setting an exciting challenge, rather than a woolly dream, and then making a plan to achieve it.

Whatever you want to do in your life – whether it’s write a novel, record an album, design a fashion range, or settle down in a nice home – put the wheels in motion today, or at least start laying the tracks.  Make a plan; order an instrument; create space for a design-table; budget your finances and start saving.

Every year that goes by without achieving our aims is another year wasted. 

Life is finite. 

There’s no time to lose.

The key to a better 2013.

You choose the kind of year you're going to have.

Decisions can change the course of our lives.  And, sometimes, they’re difficult and we need courage, stamina and wisdom to go through with what we know to be right.

As I look back on 2012, I’m pleased I’ve made some good decisions.  In my life, it has been rare I could say that.

Financially, I chose to change jobs to one that pays more, even though it isn’t my desired career.  I knew I needed more money coming in, and now the future looks brighter as a result.  I won’t see the dividends of this choice for some time, while I pay off my overdraft etc., but it was the right choice.

The new job was also the right choice for my mental and emotional well-being.  Changing jobs is always difficult: it’s frightening and stressful.  But I knew, if I stayed in my previous role, I’d be on the road to stress-related Depression again.  So I made the tough choice: I took the new job, ignoring the voice telling me: ‘Better the devil you know.’

That voice is often wrong.

It’s tempting to take the easy route, especially when the better choice can take years to pay off.  We might stick in the job we don’t like because it’s safe and we know it inside-out.  Or we might spend on credit so we can have what we want, rather than look to save for the life we hope to have in ten years.

It's up to you if you want to be
in the 'driving seat' of
your next year.

As 2013 begins, I’m looking to keep making good decisions.  For example, first off, I’m selling my car: I don’t use it much and it’s an expensive luxury to have ‘just in case’.

For this coming year, think about where you want to be and what you want to be doing by 2014.  Then start making the choices now that will move you closer to those goals.

And, when faced with difficult decisions, don’t be put off making the right choice.  It’s the way to a better life in the long run.

A very happy new year to you all and all the best for 2013.

The infinity of writing a book. (Or, ‘How to complete great tasks.’)

Sometimes the end of the writing process
can feel very far away.

Since finishing my album, I've turned my attention to my writing.

I'm pretty proud of myself for this, because it's what I said I would do, and also because I find it harder to stay focused on: writing a book is a long process, it's difficult to see the end and I’m easily distracted along the way.  Recording an album feels very finite in comparison – the end is almost tangible, so I strive all the more for it.

Some of this 'finiteness' comes from experience: I've recorded albums, I know how much work they are, and how long they take, so I give myself appropriate time scales to complete them.

For example, I know it would be foolish for me to advertise that my next album will be out next year when I haven't even started writing any new material.

To overcome the 'infinity' of writing a book, I have started to set myself achievable goals.  I think this is how to approach any large, or scary, task: break it down into smaller tasks you know you can achieve. 

Moving house?  Don't think about that, think about packing a box – you know you can do that, you've no doubt done it before – then pack another one.  Slowly, your whole house will be packed away and you'll be ready to move.

Writing a book?  Don't think about that, think about writing 1,000 words (or if that's too many, 100) – you know you can do that, you've done it before.  Then start thinking about the next 1,000 (or 100).

Don't be hard on yourself, expecting to finish your great novel in 6 months.  Give yourself time – it doesn't matter how long it takes, really – perhaps it will take longer than you realised (I know my album did!).

But eventually, through completing your achievable, non-scary, finite goals, the book will take shape, almost of its own accord.  

At least, that's what I'm hoping.

Love: an introduction

Love: it’s all around; it’s all you need; it will tear us apart.

In life there are many things we love: families, girlfriends/boyfriends, events, pets, pastimes...

‘I love it!’ we cry. 

And often we do – cry – because of love.

Love can sneak up on us, lift us higher than we’ve ever been before – or maybe ever will again – and bring us joy unimaginable.  And sometimes we can fall from those heights to equal – or perhaps even greater – depths, just as quickly as we fell ‘in love’.

But what is life without love?  This time of ours, marked out by birthday milestones – 30 years can pass by in a flash, and we bear the scars of loves found, lost...papered over.

Love can be unrequited (is there anything more painful?) or rejected; it can be risky and reckless, or perhaps real and rooted.

Love can lead us to so much: a new relationship, a new passion, a life of companionship, or a cherished memory.  A ‘labour of love’ could lead to a PhD, a novel, or even a new album.

You never know what the future might bring if we just ‘love’.

(My new album: 'Love?' is out this Saturday, 15th December 2012.  Check it out @ www.martinflett.net.  But don't worry, I'll post about it again next week to remind you!)